Derek cursed under his breath. She didn’t understand. If it were his building alone, if it were just his money at stake, he could take the risk. But his first loyalty was to the shareholders. It had to be.
CANDICE MARCHED down the hallway of the Historical Society offices and punched the elevator button. She wasn’t worried about Derek coming after her. He’d shown her in no uncertain terms exactly where his loyalties lay.
Profit, profit, profit.
She stepped into the elevator.
How could she have ever imagined he was different? Why did she think for a minute she’d misjudged him? That he had a heart? That he had a soul?
Oh, it was all well and good to dabble in being a responsible citizen, until it cost him something. He’d justified the cash outlay for the heritage designation by balancing off the value of the advertising campaign. But as soon as the balance sheet moved to the good of society, he bailed.
He’d bailed on Seattle. He’d bailed on Canna Interiors. And he’d bailed on Candice.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open.
She didn’t want to think about which hurt more. Her mind flashed to the magic of last night, and she cringed, shaking away the memories. It had all been an illusion. The Derek she’d fallen for, the Derek she’d slept with, didn’t exist.
When she made it to the lobby, she flung open the exit doors, hailed a cab and punched a number into her cell phone.
Jenna answered. “Hello.”
“It’s off,” said Candice, her voice flat and unemotional.
“What’s off?”
“The heritage designation. Derek found out it was going to be too expensive, and he backed out.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I find that hard to—”
“Believe it. I just left the Historical Society’s office. He’s there right now explaining why he can’t make the deal.”
“But—”
“He’s a fraud, Jenna. He strung me along while he thought there was profit in it, and then he cut me loose.” Her voice cracked. “He’s a shark. Just like all the rest of them. Why did I ever think he could be different?”
Candice closed her eyes. How could she have opened herself up to him? Opened her heart? Opened her soul? Handed him the ammunition to hurt her?
“I’m such a fool,” she whispered half to herself.
“What happened between you two last night?” asked Jenna.
“Exactly what you think happened between us last night. We went back to his place. We made love. I slept in his arms all night long, and then he cut me off at the knees.” Candice inhaled a shuddering breath. “Never again, Jenna.”
“Don’t let it—”
“Never again.”
“Did you talk to him? Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand?”
Candice let out a harsh laugh. “He said he couldn’t let the shareholders down. So I reminded him that he was letting me down. He said, and I quote, ‘It’s not the same thing.’”
Jenna was silent for a beat. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I gotta go. I just wanted to let you—”
“Let’s meet for coffee.”
“Maybe later.”
“Candice.”
“I’m fine. I just need some time alone.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home, I guess.” Somewhere safe to lick her wounds. Somewhere she could regroup. Losing the heritage designation was a professional setback, but she’d recover. She wasn’t so sure about having lost her heart.
AS HE DROVE down Everett Street, convincing himself that Candy would get over it, strategizing about how to contact her and when to contact her, Derek’s cell phone rang.
He pulled it out of his suit pocket. “Reeves here.”
“Get your ass over here.” It was Tyler’s voice.
“What the hell—”
“I don’t know what you did to Candice, but you’ve got Jenna cussing out your name and trashing the kitchen.”
“It’s a misunderstanding,” said Derek.
“Well fix it! If you ever want to see Candice again, and if you ever want to speak with Jenna again, and if you don’t want to shell out a million dollars for my kitchen, fix your mess.”
“I had no choice,” said Derek, even as the thought of never seeing Candy again hit him in the gut like a sucker punch. She wouldn’t hold a grudge like that. Not forever.
Would she?
“There’s always a choice,” said Tyler.
“Did Jenna tell you what happened?”
“No. She’s too busy spouting what you deserve—in frightening anatomical detail.” Tyler’s voice went up. “I don’t want to know that my wife is capable of those thoughts. Do you understand me?”
“I was protecting the company,” said Derek, getting sicker by the minute at the thought of never seeing Candy again. Tyler couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be right.
“You mean to tell me there wasn’t a way to protect the company without screwing Candice and Jenna?”
“You shareholders, you’re always quick enough to spend the profits, but then you want to sit back and be an armchair quarterback on the methods. I did it for you. You. If it was just my money…”
A few seconds ticked by while Derek’s mind started to hum.
“What?” asked Tyler.
If it was just Derek’s money, would he have picked the hotel over his relationship with Candy? Would he have compromised his own future financial interest for the good of Canna Interiors, for the good of Candy?
He groaned out loud. Would he have given up his vice presidency? His hotel? His money? Just to make Candy happy?
“What?” Tyler demanded again.
Yes! The money was nothing, and Candy was everything.
“Meet me at Reeves-DuCarter,” said Derek. “In the boardroom.”
“Now? On a Saturday?”
“Yes, now. I’m the vice president of the company and I’m calling an emergency meeting. You phone Striker. I’ll phone Dad.”
“But—”
“Do it.”
Derek hit the End button and dialed his parents’ house. He’d always prided himself on being a man of principles. And today he’d slammed headlong into one. Candy might never speak to him again, but he was going to fix what he’d broken.
DEREK STOOD AT THE HEAD of yet another boardroom table. This was a bigger boardroom, a bigger table, finer quality furniture because his company was so damn successful. For the very first time in his life he questioned the value of that success in something other than monetary terms.
The money was the easy part, he realized. It had always been the easy part.
He stared into the faces of his brothers, his parents and his two sisters-in-law. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice.”
Tyler guffawed.
Jenna elbowed him in the ribs.
“I’d like to put a motion before the board,” said Derek. “I’m resigning as vice president.”
A collective gasp came up around the table, and his mother’s eyes went wide.
“And I’m proposing a deal to sell my shares in Reeves-DuCarter—”
“Derek.” His father stood up. “You’re going to have to—”
Derek held up his hand. “Let me finish.”
His father clamped his jaw shut as the room went still. As president and CEO, nobody ever interrupted Jackson at the boardroom table.
After a tense moment, he sat back down.
“I’m proposing a trade,” said Derek. “Alfred Gray is working out the details right now. I want to give up my interest in Reeves-DuCarter in exchange for sole ownership of the Quayside.”
“What?” asked his mother. “Where? Why?” She held up her hands in a gesture of confusion.
“I want to designate it as a heritage site. But that will compromise the market value, tie our hands on a future sale and a whole list of other issues. I can’t ask the shareholders to take the risk.”
Derek nodded.
“And I thought I had it bad,” Tyler muttered.
Jenna elbowed him again.
Striker shook his head and snickered. “So toast.”
“We can’t let you do that, son,” said his father.
Derek’s gaze flew to Jackson.
His father stood up and addressed the entire table. “All those in favor of letting Derek trade his shares?”
Nobody moved.
“All those opposed?”
Every hand went up.
Derek glared from one brother to the next, then to his father, as he frantically scrambled for a way to convince them.
Then Tyler spoke up. “All those in favor of designating the Quayside as a heritage site?”
All hands went up again.
Derek blinked. He took a step back and nearly stumbled. That made no sense. It was a foolish move. It was going to cost them all…
Jenna whispered something to Tyler and left the room.
Derek’s mother beamed at him. “I think a heritage designation is an excellent idea.”
Derek stared back. “But…It will cost you money.”
“It’s our civic duty,” she said. “And I’m proud of you for recognizing it.”
“Your mother is right,” said his father. “I think Reeves-DuCarter ought to start building a higher community profile.”
Derek shook his head. The excuses were all perfectly plausible, but they were doing this for him. He couldn’t let them compromise their own interests.
“Let me sell my shares,” he said, “buy the hotel. Alfred Gray will work up something fair.”
“You were voted down,” said his father.
“That’s only because you’re all trying—”
“To support you?” asked his mother. “I know you’re used to being the family caretaker. And we appreciate your efforts, really, we do. But it’s our turn to give back. There are many good reasons to approve the heritage designation.”
Striker straightened. “So, shut up and start the paperwork, big brother.”
Tyler chuckled. “And don’t forget to say thank you.” Derek’s shoulders slumped in complete amazement. He glanced from family member to family member. They really wanted to do this. They really wanted to help him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice raw.
THE THIRD TIME HER PHONE RANG, Candice picked it up. Whoever was on the other end, obviously wasn’t going to leave a voice mail. “Yeah?”
“You’d better get over here,” said Jenna.
“Over where?”
“The Reeves-DuCarter boardroom.”
Candice’s stomach plummeted. “No way.”
“You won’t believe what Derek did.”
“I already know what Derek did.”
“No you don’t. He just tried to give it all up for you.”
Candice frowned. “Give what up?”
“Everything. His life. His empire.”
“Huh?”
“For you.”
“What?”
“He stood there in front of his entire family and offered to trade them all of his shares in Reeves-DuCarter for sole interest in the Quayside.”
Candice gave her head a little shake. “Why would he do that?”
“You can’t think of a reason? You can’t think of one reason why he might have wanted to own the Quayside?”
“No.”
“To designate it as a heritage site.”
Candice dropped down onto the sofa. Her throat went dry and her voice was barely a whisper. “What?”
Jenna’s voice was chopped and static. “Get your butt over here.”
Adrenaline shot through Candice’s brain, shocking her out of her stupor. What was he doing? What did it mean?
She dropped the phone and grabbed her purse. He loved being vice president. He lived for the action, the excitement, the deal. He was a shark. Sharks didn’t give up money and stature. Not for anything.
Skipping the elevator, she raced down the stairs of her apartment to the parking garage and peeled out onto the street.
When she arrived at the Reeves-DuCarter building, Jenna opened the front door, then grabbed an empty elevator.
“He loves you,” said Jenna.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Candice couldn’t dare hope. Her broken heart was Derek’s forever, but he had a million other things in his life. There had to be an explanation, and he’d darn well better get ready to give it to her.
The elevator doors slid open, and they rounded the corner and ran smack into Derek.
“Candy?”
Candice came to a stop in front of him, while Jenna discretely kept going.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Coming to find you.”
“Not that what.” She gestured around the hallway. “I mean, what are you doing?”
The rest of Derek’s family spilled out of the boardroom down the hall.
Derek grabbed Candice’s arm and pulled her into an executive office, closing the door behind them. He looked into her eyes. “I really was coming to find you.”
“Jenna said you sold your shares.”
“If I did, would you care?”
“Of course I’d care.”
“I thought money wasn’t important to you?”
“But it’s important to you. You can’t give up your job, your life, your dreams to make me happy.”
“Why not?”
“Because…Derek.”
“Want to make a deal?”
Candice paused. “What kind of a deal?”
He moved toward her. “I’ll get the Quayside designated as a heritage site, if you’ll marry me and have my children.”
“Your children?”
He took her hand. “Okay, just marry me. We can work out something on the children later.”
Love swelled within her chest. “I can’t let you do it.”
“It’s a win-win.”
She shook her head.
“I love you, Candy.”
She blinked away the burning sensation behind her eyes. “I love you, too. But you can’t give up your company.”
He smiled. “Let me worry about the company. You want the heritage designation? You’ll have to marry me. I’m not above playing hardball, Candy.”
“Neither am I,” she said softly. “I’ll marry you if you keep your shares in Reeves-DuCarter.”
“Deal.” He leaned forward and kissed her.
She pulled back. “Just like that.”
He nodded and kissed her again. This time the kiss was longer, deeper, soul-satisfying. Derek loved her. And they were staying together. Forever.
The heritage designation was nothing.
The office door opened, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to break the kiss. Derek kept kissing her until his father cleared his throat.
They both looked up.
“Your mother’s asking if she should get out Grandma’s rings?” He cocked his head sideways and smiled. “I’m assuming it’s a yes?”
Derek nodded. “Looks like we’ve made ourselves a deal.”
“You promised not to give up your shares,” Candice reminded Derek, making sure his father overheard. She wanted to put a stop to this before any paperwork changed hands.
“He’s not giving up his shares,” said his father.
Candice blinked.
“We voted that idea down immediately.”
She slanted a suspicious gaze at Derek.
He gave her a squeeze and a wicked smile. “But we’re getting the heritage designation anyway. Isn’t it great?”
“You tricked me?”
“Gotta stay on your toes around me, babe.”
ALTHOUGH THE WEDDING wasn’t officially a heritage event, Candice’s gown was vintage flocked satin with shimmering lace insets. It had been worn by Derek’s grandmother in 1943—the wonderful woman who had
also worn the engagement and wedding rings that now adorned Candice’s left hand.
Candice had never pictured herself having a formal wedding. But now she felt like a fairy princess, floating around the Quayside dance floor in Derek’s arms with all the eyes in the room on her. She wiggled her ring finger in front of her eyes, watching the diamonds sparkle under the ballroom lights.
“I can’t believe we’re married,” she sighed.
“I can’t believe I’m having so much fun,” said Derek.
Candice looked up. “Excuse me?”
He gathered her closer. “When my brothers got married, all I could see was that they were tossing away their freedom.”
She smiled. “And now you’ve tossed yours away, too.”
“But it doesn’t work that way.”
“Sorry, buddy, but the deal’s done. Your freedom’s gone.”
Derek chuckled. “I mean, the engagement, the wedding, the marriage, it’s not about my freedom. It’s all about keeping the woman I love so close to me that she’ll never get away.”
“I don’t want to get away.”
“That’s good.” He gently kissed her forehead. “Because the deal’s done for you, too. You’re mine for life.”
The band switched songs and the wedding party joined them on the dance floor, Jenna and Erin in their deep blue bridesmaids dresses, and Tyler and Striker in their tuxedos.
Her parents danced along beside them, giving her smiles and whispered congratulations.
“Going to throw the bouquet?” asked Erin as she whirled by with Striker.
“Following right in your footsteps,” said Candice.
Striker grinned and winked at his wife. “Then I hope you’re planning a family soon.” He cupped his palm over Erin’s abdomen.
Candice’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Erin nodded.
“Congratulations,” said Derek. “Does Mom know?”
“We’re saving the news until after your honeymoon,” said Striker.
“Maybe I won’t throw the bouquet after all,” said Candice.
Erin laughed as they danced away.
“That’s right,” Derek drawled. “We haven’t had our children negotiation yet.”
Candice tipped her head back. “Okay. What are you offering?”
“Two girls for two boys?”
“Four?”
“Not enough?”
“Get real.”
“How about if we start with one and take it from there?”
High Stakes Page 15